Either That Mustache Goes or I Do
by WinterSky101
Summary: When John refuses to do anything about his mustache, Sherlock takes matters into his own hands. John/Mary. Mid-season 3.


**Hello everyone! So my friend and I were talking about how ridiculous John's mustache is, and we had a thought: what if Sherlock shaved it off while John was sleeping? Because let's be honest; he would do it. Thus, this fic was born. This takes place during season 3. John is getting married to Mary Morstan, but he's currently still living with Sherlock.**

**Also, I am aware that the phrase from which the title derives ("Either that wallpaper goes or I do") was not really Oscar Wilde's last words. I don't care. I like it. Anyway, here's the fic.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

* * *

It's the night before John's wedding, and he's about to have a nervous breakdown.

"Calm down," Sherlock calls across the room, his voice far too steady for this situation.

"How can I calm down?!" John demands, his voice slightly hysterical. "I'm getting married tomorrow, Sherlock. Bloody _married_. I cannot be calm."

"If you're just going to pace around the flat, then maybe you should do something productive," Sherlock suggests. John makes a frustrated noise.

"Why did I move back in with you?"

"Don't worry. You'll be living with Mary in a few days," Sherlock replies dismissively. He sounds a bit petulant, though, and John sighs deeply.

"I'm not abandoning you, Sherlock."

"I didn't say anything," Sherlock replies. John rolls his eyes.

"I'm just getting married." The phrase sinks in. "Just getting married. My God, Sherlock, I'm getting married!"

"Yes, you are," Sherlock replies. He sounds disinterested. "You've been planning this for months. You couldn't have forgotten."

"But Sherlock!" John snaps. "It's coming up! Soon!"

"Yes, and you've known that for quite a while. You're not getting cold feet, I hope."

"SHERLOCK!" John snaps loudly. It's closer to a yell, actually.

"Yes?" Sherlock replies lazily.

"I'm getting married _tomorrow_ and it is perfectly normal to be worried and if you could be a bit more _supportive_, that would be _lovely_!"

Sherlock sighs. "Normal is _boring_. But if you insist... How exactly am I to be supportive?"

"I don't know!" John snaps. "Tell me it's all going to work out, and that Mary loves me, and that I don't need to worry."

"Well, you just told yourself all those things. Why should I do it too?" Sherlock asks.

"Damn it, Sherlock!" John half-shouts. Sherlock merely raises an eyebrow at the outburst.

"Very well. John, you are being an idiot. Mary cares for you. I can list off the ways I know, but I'm not sure you'll be able to understand them. You should worry about some things, such as how dreadfully dull it'll be to be settled down and doing horribly mundane things like having children, but you don't need to worry about Mary leaving you or something bad happening at the wedding. You'll have the Detective Inspector of the New Scotland Yard there. Lestrade won't let anything happen."

"That was..." John shakes his head. "That was surprisingly comforting. Um, thanks, Sherlock."

"Will you stop babbling now?" Sherlock asks. John rolls his eyes.

"You are ridiculous."

"I'll take that as a yes," he replies. "Good. I'm trying to do something over here."

"Do I want to know?" John asks. Sherlock opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, John shakes his head. "I've decided I don't want to know. Don't tell me."

"Boring," Sherlock mutters. John rolls his eyes.

"You're a madman."

"Maybe," Sherlock replies mildly. "But at least I'm interesting." John rolls his eyes at that. "You can't deny I'm interesting," Sherlock says petulantly.

"No, I definitely can't." John sighs, getting up from his chair.

"Are you going to shave that mustache?" Sherlock asks, his voice almost hopeful. John sighs.

"I like the mustache."

"No one else in the world does," Sherlock mutters. John rolls his eyes.

"That's not true."

"Mary doesn't like it."

"Now you're just being contrary," John accuses.

"Well, yes. I do that a lot," Sherlock replies, utterly unabashed. "But I'm also right. Mary doesn't like your mustache."

"Stop being ridiculous."

"A thing like that could destroy a marriage."

"Is this wishful thinking?"

Sherlock gives John a horribly dirty look. "Your mustache looks hideous."

"Shut up," John grumbles. Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"It does."

"I'm leaving." John stomps out of the room. Sherlock's lip curls in the slightest hint of a smile. He leaves his experiment for a moment - to be honest, it's not that interesting - and goes to make John a cup of tea.

When the teapot boils, Sherlock pour a cup for John, adds the things he takes in it, and brings it to his friend's bedroom.

"John?" he says, forgoing knocking to enter the room. John is in his pajamas, sitting at his desk.

"What is it, Sherlock?" John asks distractedly. "I should be going to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

"Here's some tea. Decaf." Sherlock holds it out as a peace offering. John stares at him for a moment. "You're getting married tomorrow," Sherlock adds. "And you'll be moving out. I thought I'd make you a cup of tea for our last night as flatmates."

"Oh. Thanks." John takes the tea and sips it cautiously. "Wow. This is actually good." Sherlock arches an eyebrow. "No offense," John quickly adds. Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"I'll be downstairs," he calls as he leaves the room. John goes back to whatever he was doing at his desk and Sherlock returns to his experiment.

About half an hour later, Sherlock goes back upstairs. John is slumped over his desk, completely out. Sherlock heaves him into his bed. He doesn't so much as stir.

Grinning slightly, Sherlock gets to work.

* * *

"Sherlock!" John almost shrieks when he looks in the mirror the next morning. "Sherlock, what the hell did you do to my mustache?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Sherlock replies airily, pulling on his new suit jacket.

"My mustache is gone," John growls.

"It must have run away in the night," Sherlock replies innocently. John looks about ready to kill.

"Goddamn it, Sherlock-" But he's cut off by the sound of knocking at the door. John goes downstairs to answer it, still fuming.

"Hello, dearest," Mary says as John opens the door. Sherlock lingers in the background.

"Oh. Hello, Mary."

"You've shaved your mustache!" Mary says, sounding surprised.

"Well, actually-" John begins, glaring at Sherlock.

"You look nicer without it," Mary interrupts. John stops mid-word. "No offense, but I never really liked it anyway."

Sherlock shoots John a smug look as he returns to his room to finish getting ready.

He always knew no one liked that mustache.


End file.
